


City of Love

by colazitron



Series: 2015 December Holiday Fic Countdown [19]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troye and Connor in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City of Love

“So,” Connor says, sipping on his café au lait - really, say what you will about the Europeans and their superiority complex when it comes to American vs European coffee, but they have a point - and scrolling through the _Sights To See When In Paris_ list he’s compiled ever since the tour date has been confirmed.

“What do you want to do?”

Troye rolls over on the bed, groaning, burying his head in the pillows.

“You know I have work to do,” he sighs.

Connor grins. He knows it’s not that Troye’s not looking forward to his work, there are very few things Troye loves as much as performing and doing everything around that, it’s just that... well. It’s just that now Connor’s one of the things Troye loves just as well, and the fact that he’s obviously regretful about not getting to spend as much time with Connor as he would maybe like to feels nice. Not that Connor ever doubts it, god no, but... still. It’s nice to know when you’re appreciated.

“Well, you’re not working all day. And you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

He’s not really asking, more pointing it out. The tour was planned this way for a reason, after all.

“No, just... I can’t go see all of Paris with you in a few hours, you know that, right?” Troye says.

Connor laughs. “Obviously. But we can go see, like, a little bit. Two bits maybe.”

“Two bits?” Troye asks, rolling over and grinning at Connor from underneath his messy hair. “You sure you’re not letting your ambition get to your head? Two whole bits?”

The morning light is still grey, and Troye’s been rolling around the sheets ever since Connor got up thirty minutes ago. Connor likes his time in the mornings, and Troye likes staying in bed for as long as he like, but they make it work. Usually Connor just gets up and fixes himself something for breakfast and then checks all his social media and slowly transitions into the world back in bed, while Troye dozes in an out of sleep next to him. Today Troye hasn’t been able to go back to sleep, but he’s stubbornly stayed in bed anyway.

Looking at him now, hair rumbled, crease from the pillow still pressed into his face, eyes bleary because he refused to open them, and voice scratchy because he hasn’t communicated beyond the occasional grunt - Connor can only think that he’s beautiful.

Troye’s always beautiful, really, whether he’s dressed up for a photoshoot, or a performance, or an interview, or even a date - or when he’s just lazing about in Connor’s living room. There’s something about the blue in his eyes and the pink in his lips, something about the way he smiles, and the way his fingers move, something about the shadows cast by his lashes and the warmth of his skin, that calls to Connor like a siren song. Troye’s... enchanting. And Connor is 100% under his spell.

“We should go see the Eiffel Tower, probably,” Troye says. “Since we’re in Paris and all.”

“Hm,” Connor hums agreeably, and gets up to walk back over to the bed, mattress dipping under his knee as he moves to straddle Troye.

“We can do that. But...”

“But?”

“I really want to go to Parc Citroen. It’s supposed to be gorgeous. We can go for a walk, I can hold your hand, we’ll have ice cream or something.”

“In other words, we can be disgustingly romantic?”

Connor beams down at the teasing quirk of Troye’s eyebrow and then leans in to kiss him.

“Yes. Please?”

Troye heaves a deep sigh and then runs his hands down Connor’s arms, lacing their fingers together.

“Of course,” he says, tugging Connor down for another kiss, and then, in between touches of their lips, “I love you.”

Connor smiles. Must be true what they say about Paris...

“I love you too.”

 

****

The End


End file.
